My Boiler Room Virginity

I made my Boiler Room debut yesterday, as an attendee rather than DJ (before you ask). The venue was the small but sleek Kristina Records, a vinyl store in Dalston/Stoke Newington that doesn’t have a shop sign. I was reliably informed that Jamie Jones makes regular jaunts to the store as does everybody’s favourite jester, Seth Troxler, both of whom I’ve interviewed when I was working at Time Out Rio.

The only one I had heard of before was Tin Man of acidic fame, but it’s always great to discover something new. Actually being there in the flesh you realise that there’s kind of a weird awkward vibe that’s hard to escape. Perhaps it has something to do with the Big Brother cameras that you try and pretend aren’t there. The recent new tumblr, Boiler Room knows what you did last night(BRKWYDLN for short), explores this notion and exposes the people who aren’t quite aware that all their bloopers are being recorded for the amusement of everyone who has access to the world-wide-web. For the DJs it must be even worse, trying not to look the tripod-raised lens in the eye while not making any mistakes. It’s like when you’re being scolded by a teacher at school and you evade eye contact, so as to not to burst out laughing in their face.

Me, pretending the camera’s not there

I think the only people I realistically heard play for the short while I was there was Sisterhood, the duo I am admiring above. They played the autumnal “Back On The Planet” by Dionne on Smallville which stirred up some nostalgia in me with its Larry Heard shimmering pads (listen to “Can You Feel It” by Mr. Fingers for comparison). The timing of the chord changes are perfectly poised and keep you on tenterhooks as the syncopated bassline comes in and knocks around the same pattern throughout. Dicing hi-hats are as extended as it gets in the rhythm section. Beautiful simplicity and the result is serene.

You may be black, you may be white; you may be Jew or Gentile. It don’t make difference in our House.